Loss of a pet.

As an author, I’m sure you won’t be entirely surprised to find I write through things sometimes.

Yesterday was incredibly difficult. I lost one of my best friends – my cat of 11 years, Brendan Small.

Read more after the jump to learn about my special man.

I only have words and they are not enough.

It was the summer of 2002. We moved to Los Angeles and after getting my first ‘real’ job, I thought it would be sad if Nubbins would be home by herself all day. On a warm day in June, we drove to three different places looking for a pet adoption.

You were the one in the litter tray fast asleep. I knew you were going to come home with me. You sat in my lap as we drove down the 405. I named you after an obscure cartoon character. We moved to Burbank and then North Hollywood. You slept with your face smashed into whatever object you were sleeping on. You didn’t like it when I started traveling for work.

You gave us a scare when you consumed every hair band within sight. When we came to see you after surgery, the vet exclaimed, ‘You’re Brendan’s parents!’ and brought us a bag full of the contents of your stomach – everyone was impressed. After paying the bill, Eric would always add 0’s or round up the dollar amount and grumble about how much you cost us, but we knew he was kidding.

Even though you easily outweighed her, Nubbins was the boss of the house. You didn’t seem to mind. As long as you had a bed and I was close by – I think you would’ve been happy any place in the world.

Eric was offered a job in Dubai. People asked, ‘what about the cats?’ We drove you across country. You cried the entire way. We’d let you out and you parked yourself on the dashboard during a chaotic rainstorm in Texas. When we left you with my parents, you protested by never leaving the safety of underneath the bed in Lawrenceville. When it was finally come for you to join us, the happiest people in the world were Courtney Brandt and Eric Wright at the Cargo Village loading dock at Dubai International Airport.

You adapted to life as an ex-pat. Together, we gained the Dubai stone and to this day, I believe you were the largest cat in Qatar.

You loved to lick plastic bags. You swished your tail when you weren’t happy. You never outgrew your fondness for string and hair bands. You slept directly on my pillow when I was away (sometimes you would even eat that pillow). If you were scared, you slept in the closet or sock drawer. Every morning when I took a shower, I would see your little pink tongue licking the glass and would nearly trip over you on the bathmat. You always tried to eat Nubbins’ food, even though you knew you weren’t supposed to. You were a complete and total mama’s boy. While not everyone saw the side of you I did, you provided me constant and unconditional love. You were my favorite person to see after a long day of work. At home, you were most likely in a five foot radius of wherever I was.

Today, I received one of the worst calls of my life. This morning, I had to say goodbye to one of my best friends. I wasn’t ready. The house is too quiet without you.